


State of Mind

by therumjournals



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Fight Sex, M/M, Pinto, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-29
Updated: 2010-04-29
Packaged: 2017-10-17 13:56:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therumjournals/pseuds/therumjournals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris comes to New York City, and Zach isn’t happy about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	State of Mind

“Hi Neal, it’s Chris.”

“Oh, hey Pine. What’s going on?”

“I was wondering if you can tell me where Zach’s going to be tonight.”

“Okay, well, Zach’s going to be…in New York.”

“Yeah, I know. I mean, like, where in New York?”

“Where in New York? Wait, Chris…are you in New York?”

“My plane just landed.”

“Does Zach know you’re coming?”

“No, which is why I’m calling you. I was kinda hoping to surprise him.”

“Look, Chris, I don’t know what Zach told you, but he told us he really saw this trip as a chance to…get away.”

“Yeah, I know. To get away from LA. He loves New York.”

“No, I mean…I’m sorry, I don’t really know how to put this, I’m just not sure he wanted LA to…follow him here.”

“Neal, it’s just me.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So…what, Zach’s trying to escape from _me_?”

“Well, he didn’t exactly say that, it was just kind of an…impression that I got.”

“Okay, well, tell me where he’s going to be tonight, and I’ll go there and ask him myself if your little _impression_ is correct.”

“I don’t think I should tell you.”

“Just fucking tell me, Neal.”

“Okay, fine, just Chris, listen, don’t come in trying to start shit, okay?”

“Kind of hard not to now, don’t you think?”

“Just promise me that if Zach doesn’t want you there, you’ll leave.”

“If he doesn’t… This is fucking ridiculous. Zach is my friend and I’m pretty sure he’ll be pleasantly surprised to see me here. But fine, if I for some reason don’t fit into his imaginary little New York lifestyle and his East Coast clique, I’ll be happy to get the fuck out of there.”

“Alright, I’ll give you the address of the place we’re all going for dinner. You have to look for a red light outside the door, and then there’s a flight of stairs…”

**

At some point during his conversation with Neal, Chris had felt his expression shift into one of indignant confusion. He thought maybe he should be angry at Zach, but he didn’t want there to be a reason to be angry at Zach, and if he let himself be angry, he’d be admitting that there was a reason to be angry, and yeah. Needless to say, the expression remained on his face throughout the rest of the day as he arrived at his hotel and spent his first afternoon in New York flipping channels.

By the time he’d gotten ready for dinner, he’d solved his dilemma by deciding to direct his anger at Neal, and he imagined laughing with Zach later when he explained how Neal thought he’d had to protect Zach from him. He managed to relax his face into an easy smile and followed Neal’s directions to the restaurant.

He could hear laughter and the clinking of silverware as he took the stairs down, stepping slowly into a dimly-lit room. Only a few tables fit in the intimate space, and his eyes found Zach immediately, surrounded by friends at a long table along the stone wall. Zach was smiling when he caught sight of Chris, and Chris started to smile back before Zach’s eyes hardened and his brows furrowed, and he was up and out of his seat, and Chris had the sinking, sickening feeling that they would not be laughing about this later.

“What are you doing here?” Zach asked, inches away from Chris’s ear, and Chris could hear that the table had gone silent behind them.

“Um…surprise?” Chris said, desperately trying to maintain his own delusion.

Zach grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him across the floor, pulling him into the tiny bathroom. Chris couldn’t help the image that flashed through his mind, of Zach slamming him up against the closed door and kissing him breathless. In reality, Zach was standing before him, arms crossed and eyes blazing, saying “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Chris composed himself quickly and crossed his arms right back. “I’m visiting you.”

“You could have called.”

“It was a surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises, Chris.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to get that,” Chris said, rubbing his wrist.

“I’m sorry, Chris,” Zach said, and for a second Chris believed him, “but I just don’t…I’m just busy, okay, and I don’t really have time to hang out with you right now. So, I just wish you would have called.”

“What would you have said if I did?”

“I honestly don’t know. I haven’t spent a lot of time thinking about LA, okay? I’ve been focused here, on my friends.”

Chris felt a pained look cross his face, but Zach didn’t acknowledge it at all.

“Yeah? Are any of them friends with, like, benefits?” Chris asked. It was his trump card, maybe, or maybe he was just putting all his cards on the table.

“Chris, there are no benefits!”

“There were benefits that one time,” Chris mumbled.

“Exactly, Chris. One time. Do you see everyone else who I’ve hooked up with _one time_ following me across the country? Do you?”

“No,” Chris muttered, once he’d figured out that Zach was actually going to wait for an answer. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? Still, now that I am here, you could at least _act_ somewhat happy to see me.”

It was the wrong thing to say, Chris realized, as the words left his mouth and Zach’s face contorted in anger.

“I don’t want to _act_ , Chris! This is my life, these are my friends, I just want a minute where I can be myself, where I don’t have to _act_ like I’m happy, or sad, or excited, or thrilled to be ushering you through your voyage of self-discovery or whatever. Is that too much to ask?”

“So, what, you’re like, acting around me? Because you have no real friends in LA or something, you just put up with my company?”

“Not always.”

“What?! Are you fucking kidding me? So _sometimes_ you’re acting around me and sometimes you’re not? What were you doing when you sucked my dick then?”

Zach slammed a hand over his mouth and pressed him up against the door, his eyes flashing with anger. It would have been much hotter if Chris hadn’t been legitimately scared for a moment. “Shut. The fuck. Up. Okay? Those are my friends out there, I really don’t need you to be yelling about-“ Zach’s eyes narrowed “-about stupid mistakes I’ve made.”

Chris’s eyes widened and he blinked rapidly, fighting to breathe through his nose as Zach’s hand remained firmly clamped over his mouth. He shook his head to break free but Zach held him tightly against the door.

“Let me tell you something, Chris. Let me tell you why I can breathe here in New York. Because you – fuck, you’re clingy, okay, you’re…needy and it’s like, sometimes when you call me and you ask me what I’m doing and I say I’m at home watching TV, that’s not a fucking open invitation for you to come over and join me. It’s suffocating.”

Zach had relaxed his grip during his little tirade, and Chris took the opportunity to duck out from under his hand so he could speak his piece.

“What the fuck, Zach?” Chris’s eyes were dark. “No, seriously. What the fuck? I tell you I’m coming over, I bring you beer, I don’t try to talk during _Desperate Housewives_ …how is that so suffocating that you need to go to New York to get away?”

“Because, Chris, when you’re there, you’re not just there, okay? You’re there and you’re like…you’re like waiting for something from me, needing something from me and expecting something and making me feel like shit for it. You don’t even have to say anything, it’s just there, hanging over everything.”

“So you’re saying my mere presence makes you feel like shit. Wow.” Chris was trying to find himself here, because he felt like he’d been caught, like he’d been exposed, and it took him a minute to even realize why. Because he _had_ been waiting, every time he went to Zach’s place, waiting for him to do what he’d done that one time – to turn toward him on the couch and give him a shy smile and lean forward for a kiss and then…and then everything else that had followed on what had quite possibly been one of the most fantastic nights of Chris’s entire life.

“I’m saying you’re waiting for something that isn’t going to happen, Chris. It wasn’t going to happen there and it’s not going to happen here, and I’m sorry it happened once and apparently fucked you up so badly that you need to come chasing me across the country.”

“Jesus Christ, Zach, maybe if you’d considered breathing one word of this to me before you left, maybe if you’d dropped a fucking clue or two, I wouldn’t have been such a fucking idiot this whole time. Maybe if you told me I was a fucking charity case for you, Jesus, Zach, you could have just talked to me-“

“I can’t talk to you, Chris!” Zach burst, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Chris squinted in confusion. “What? Of course you can. We talk all the time.”

“No, I can’t. You…you look at me, and I just can’t say what I mean anymore. Okay? I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you and see how hurt you would be.”

“Well, you seem to be doing a damn fine job of it right now, you fucking coward. Fucking hiding behind your New York friends. I’d like to see you say this shit to me in LA, then you’d turn around and find out there’s no one fucking else there. No one else you don’t have to ‘act’ around at least.”

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, okay? I’m sorry if I led you on or whatever, but now you need to go and find a way to get the fuck over it.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Zach, I’m fucking over it. You know, maybe I did like you and maybe I _was_ waiting, but if I’d seen this…this New York fucking pretentious, lying faggot that was waiting under the surface, I would have been out of your life in a second.”

“Good,” Zach yelled, slamming his hand against the wall next to Chris’s head. Chris flinched as Zach leaned closer to hiss in his ear, his lip curled. “Get the fuck out then. Because I’m done.”

Chris pushed past Zach to yank the bathroom door open, and he stormed toward the stairway. Halfway across the room he stopped, turned around and laughed. Zach had only made it a few steps out of the bathroom before Chris was across the floor and shoving him roughly back in, slamming the door behind them. Zach looked at him in disbelief and Chris ran his hands through his hair and laughed again and he knew he sounded manic and he kind of hoped he was scaring Zach.

“I can’t fucking believe I almost fell for that!” he said, shaking his head in disbelief as he turned toward Zach. “You almost got me there for a minute,” he said, shoving his finger into Zach’s chest. “You almost made me believe that _I_ was the pathetically desperate one.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Zach tried, but Chris could see it so clearly now, even if Zach’s eyes betrayed nothing.

“You, Zach! You are so full of shit. You’re telling me I’m so stupid, waiting for something that’s not going to happen, well guess what, Zach? I’m not stupid. You think I don’t see you looking at me? I see how much effort it takes for you to hold yourself back.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Chris,” Zach said, his tone dry.

“That’s fine, Zach, keep it up. I’ll just wait here for your fucking façade to crack. What the hell is it, anyway? What’s your justification, what are you telling yourself every night to keep yourself in check? I have my guesses, but I haven’t quite figured it out. Is it, noble friend, not wanting to corrupt the straight guy? Is it your high and mighty belief that you should never mix business with pleasure? Or wait, I know, maybe you’re just so fucking scared at how much you want me that you’re afraid of losing control.”

“Oh _please_ ,” Zach sneered.

“And heaven forbid the calm and centered Zachary Quinto would ever lose control. Is that it? You say you don’t want to act? Jesus Christ, Zach, that’s exactly what you’re doing. You’re lying to yourself, telling yourself you don’t want me.” He shoved Zach once in the chest, lightly, hiding his surprise when Zach actually took a step back. Chris pushed him again, harder this time, until his back was against the wall, then he pressed an arm across his chest. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

“Fuck you.”

“Come on, Zach. If you’re such a good actor, tell me again about how that night was a mistake.”

“It _was_ a fucking mistake,” Zach snapped at him.

“Now tell me you don’t want to do that again. Tell me you don’t want-“ and here he leaned close to Zach’s ear, let the tip of his tongue flick out to touch Zach’s skin “-to touch me. Tell me you don’t want me to touch you. Come on, make me believe it.”

Zach pushed Chris roughly away, and Chris laughed. Zach knew how his own body would betray him, the hitch in his breath, the twitch of his fingers wanting to brush against Chris’s skin.

Chris felt powerful, and he imagined this was how Zach had felt when he was sneering in Chris’s face ten minutes ago, and he hoped Zach felt that same clenching feeling in his chest at being called-out and exposed. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted Zach to remember exactly what he’d pushed away with his words and his self-delusion.

“Believe whatever you want,” Zach snarled, but it lacked the edge that had had Chris on the defensive before. “Just get the fuck away from me.”

Chris grabbed him by the jaw and pushed him hard against the wall. His head hit the towel dispenser with a painful sound. Chris pressed the length of his body against Zach’s, and covered Zach’s mouth with his, thrusting his tongue in between his lips, licking into him, and it was almost as if Zach were letting him in, even if he wasn’t kissing back. Chris fisted both of his hands in Zach’s hair and kissed harder, scraping his teeth against Zach’s lips. When he pulled back, his eyes were bright blue with anger and lust.

“I hope you miss that, Zach. But go ahead and keep telling yourself that you don’t.” He pushed off against Zach’s chest, not wincing this time at Zach’s grunt of pain, and slammed open the bathroom door. Zach leaned against the tile wall for a long minute after he heard Chris’s feet pounding up the staircase, breathing hard and trying to think over the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

**

Chris pushed his way down crowded sidewalks, walking fast, not caring where he was going, his mind reeling. He could feel the fight throughout his whole body – the burn of anger on his cheeks, a clenching in his stomach when he remembered Zach telling him that everything that he’d thought about their friendship was a lie. A heady buzz when he thought of tearing Zach down, a twinge of guilt in his chest when he thought about shoving Zach into the wall. Zach’s hand on his mouth, Zach’s lips against his. And a paralyzing remorse that pulled the air from his lungs, made him stop and hold himself up with a hand against a wall, when he thought about calling Zach a faggot.

He had no idea how many blocks he’d walked by the time he found his way back to his hotel. He picked up a pastrami sandwich and a six-pack of designer beer, brought them up to his room, turned his phone off, and watched _Reservoir Dogs_ until he fell into a restless sleep.

**

When he woke up, late the next morning, Chris had six missed calls from Zach, zero voicemails, and a text from Neal that said “The fuck did you say to Zach?” He rolled his eyes, turned the TV to an _America’s Next Top Model_ marathon, and tried hard not to think.

Two hours later his phone buzzed, and he reached lazily across the blankets to grab it. A text message from Zach flashed on the screen.

 _i’m on a rock in central park, come find me._

He frowned at the phone before he texted back.

 **No.**

No response for a long moment, then Chris heaved a sigh and gave in.

 **Why?**

 _to talk_

Chris stared at his phone, considering possible responses. “Fuck you,” “I want to punch you in the face,” “I hate you,” and “I love you,” all came to mind, before he cursed under his breath, typed “Fine” and hit send. He changed his shirt, put his sunglasses on, paused to type “You do not deserve this,” hit send, and stepped out the door.

**

“Jesus fucking Christ, Zach, do you have any idea how many fucking rocks there are in Central Park?” He collapsed onto his back on top of the flat boulder beside Zach, panting and blinking sweat from his eyes.

Zach closed his book and shoved it into his messenger bag. “Yeah. I found this one a while ago. Been coming here a lot. It’s really secluded.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Chris sat up and glared at Zach. “Okay, so I passed your little test, I found you, now what the fuck do you want?”

Zach held his stare and said “I don’t know.”

“Don’t fuck with me Zach, I swear to god. I’m in a lot less forgiving mood than I was three hours ago when I started looking for you.” He lay back down on the rock to illustrate his exhaustion and overall unwillingness to participate in Zach’s mindgames.

“Why did you come to New York?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Chris said wearily, “to profess my love for you, I suppose.”

“Really?”

Chris lifted his head up off the rock long enough to glare at him. “No, asshole. I was bored and I thought, ‘what could I do to have fun? Oh, Zach and I have fun together, I’ll go visit Zach!’. There, now you’re privy to my deep thought processes and secret agendas.” Chris dropped his head back onto the rock. “Of course, that was before I realized that you were just _pretending_ to enjoy my company, and I just didn’t realize it, because you were _acting_. So, you know. Forgive me.”

“I think you might have been right last night. What you said. About my…motivations.”

“Great. I’ll give myself an A plus in Seeing Through Zachary Quinto’s Bullshit. _Not_ a popular class, by the way,” he said, cracking an eye open to look at Zach. “Parse it out for me, Zach. What shit did you actually mean last night, and what shit was just trumped up drama queen bullshit that made you feel shitty when you actually thought about it later?”

“You do know there are other adjectives and nouns besides shit, right?”

“Go shit yourself,” Chris said, closing his eyes again.

Zach was quiet for a moment, which didn’t surprise Chris at all. What did surprise him was when Zach actually answered his question.

“I thought I meant it all,” he said quietly.

“Did you really come to New York to get rid of me?” Chris found it was much easier to ask the question with his sunglasses on and his eyes closed.

“I had other reasons for being here.”

“Great. So my absence was just a bonus.”

Zach was quiet.

Chris raised his head up again and said, “Fucker.”

“Sorry, but that’s how I felt. I did need a break from you. But…apparently it wasn’t for the reasons I thought.”

“So you’re saying that my slamming your head into the wall and sticking my tongue down your throat actually made you re-examine your motives and brought you around to my point of view?”

“You said some pretty fucked up shit, too, by the way.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. It was a defense mechanism, and you were…being really mean.”

“You have secret assholish depths. I always suspected it.”

“Yeah, well. Apparently we have that in common.”

“So…what now?”

“I don’t know, Zach. I mean, I’m glad we had this talk and all but I don’t know. I’m just…I’m not sure we can just hug this one out.”

Zach nodded and his fingers plucked idly at the lichen growing on the rock. “Wanna fuck it out?” he asked quietly.

Chris’s mouth dropped open a little. “What?”

“Do. You. Want. To. Fuck-“

“Yeah, okay, I heard you. I just- What are you doing?”

Zach had scooted across the surface of the boulder, and he was pushing Chris’s t-shirt up and his mouth was against Chris’s hip bone, and he was licking and biting without even waiting for a reaction.

“Ahhh, fuck, Zach,” Chris was gasping, his fists clenched at his sides as he felt his dick hardening against his will.

Zach flicked his tongue into Chris’s belly button and moved down to press his face against Chris’s crotch, and Chris thought that maybe it would have looked a little ridiculous if his body hadn’t gone completely weak with desire and something that might have been relief.

Zach had a hand on him now, pressing his palm against the line of his cock, sending waves of pleasure crashing through Chris, and it was all he could do to grasp weakly at Zach’s t-shirt and say, “Please, Zach, get up here _now_.”

Zach scrambled up over him, but fisted a hand in his hair and bit down on his neck, at the same time thrusting their hips together. Chris cried out and shoved at Zach’s chest to push him away. “Fuck, Zach, what was that for?”

“That,” Zach said, pushing Chris’s hand out of the way and leaning back down to lick at the angry bite mark, “was for making me want you so much.”

He kept his grip on Chris’s hair, holding him down, and hovered over him, lips inches from Chris’s mouth, smirking as Chris struggled to lift his head, trying to close the gap between them. Finally, Chris lunged up and captured Zach’s mouth, his eyes stinging from the pull on his scalp, then Zach let go and his head smacked hard against the rock. It hurt like hell, and his vision blurred for a second, but he didn’t care, because Zach’s mouth was still hot on his and Zach was wrapping his tongue possessively around his own. Chris ran his hands down Zach’s back, up under his t-shirt until he could slide his thumbs into Zach’s waistband and press down until Zach’s full weight was on him, and he could grind up against him relentlessly.

“I told you, Chris,” Zach said as Chris clutched at him, holding him down. “I told you. So fucking needy, look at you, look how much you want this.”

“Yeah,” Chris panted, “yeah, I am needy, fuck Zach, I do need this, I need you so bad.” He knew exactly what he was saying, and he knew that saying it meant that Zach could hurt him, but he also knew that he was capable of hurting him right back.

Zach groaned and rutted against Chris and reached back to urge Chris’s hand farther under his jeans and begged Chris to touch him, please, anywhere, just touch him. He drove his tongue into Chris’s mouth again, deep and desperate, until Chris jerked his head away to break the kiss.

“I was right too, Zach,” Chris said, his voice rough. “Look at you. Fuck, you don’t even know what you look like right now, so desperate, so out of control.”

In one move, he slid his hands up Zach’s sides and rolled him onto his back, straddling him. He pinned Zach’s hands against the rock and leaned down to whisper “Control yourself, Zachary.”

Zach’s eyes blazed and Chris grinned and ran a finger up his jaw and cheek and wrapped his hand in Zach’s hair, pulling him up for a long kiss, waiting until he felt Zach relax in his grip and then letting go so his head hit the rock with a thud.

“Fucker,” Zach hissed, wincing, and Chris leaned down and kissed him wetly around his ear and whispered, “Sorry, Zach, I’m sorry, okay?”

“Fuck me.”

Chris stilled, pushed himself up so that he was kneeling over Zach’s chest, looking down at him. “Not here.”

“Yes, here. Now. Fuck me, Chris.” Zach slid his hands up Chris’s thighs and started unbuttoning his jeans. Chris looked down at him, watching, thinking, as Zach’s fingers moved to unzip his fly and dipped inside to cup his balls and press against him.

“Fuck, fuck, okay, Zach, okay,” Chris said, scrambling up to pull his jeans the rest of the way off, followed by his shirt, and then he dropped to his knees beside Zach.

Zach propped himself up on his elbows and gestured toward his bag, and Chris rummaged around until he found a packet of lube. He raised an eyebrow at Zach.

“What? I told you this place was secluded,” Zach said with a shrug.

Chris stared at him, said “that’s disturbingly hot,” and tore the packet open with his teeth. He looked at it, then back up at Zach. “I’ve, uh, never done this before,” he said.

“Good,” said Zach, pulling his shirt off, then lying back to unzip his jeans, lifting his hips to push them down the rest of the way. “I think you’ll be able to figure it out.”

Chris straddled him again, moved up over him to kiss him, closing his eyes as Zach pushed a hand into Chris’s hair, tenderly now, and they kissed until Chris was out of breath.

“I know I don’t deserve this, but…be gentle with me, okay?” Zach said, looking in his eyes, hand still tangled in his hair. “This is only for you.”

“Zach,” Chris breathed, his eyes wide.

“Come on,” Zach said softly, pressing another kiss to his lips, keeping his hands on Chris’s shoulders until he moved down between Zach’s legs.

Chris coated a finger in lube and touched him lightly between his legs, kissing the inside of his knee and taking a deep breath before pressing his finger in. He heard Zach’s sharp intake of breath and ran his fingers along the inside of Zach’s thigh to soothe him. He slid the finger in and out, twisted it, watched Zach take another breath and slipped a second finger inside.

“Okay?” he asked, watching Zach’s face.

“Yeah,” Zach gasped. “Yeah. You?”

“Zach, fuck,” Chris said, watching his fingers disappear into Zach, watching Zach’s stomach muscles clench and unclench as he wiggled them. “You have no idea how hot you are right now, no fucking idea.” He slid his fingers out and in again, turning his hand, wanting to make sure Zach was ready. “I can’t fucking wait to be inside you.”

“Don’t wait,” Zach said, his voice desperate, “don’t wait, Chris, do it now.”

“Are you sure?” Chris asked, watching again as he pumped his fingers harder, faster into Zach.

“Chris, please, I want…I want you, now, I want your cock.”

Chris moaned at that, but instead of taking his fingers out, he added a third.

“Yeah,” Zach groaned, “guh, yeah, I remember...sucking you off in my living room, fuck you’re huge.”

“You ever think about that?” Chris asked, twisting his wrist.

“Uhhh, yeah. I think about it…fuck…when I’m jerking off…think about swallowing you down in the bedroom that night…”

Chris pulled his fingers out fast, ignoring Zach’s moan of protest, and scrambled out of his boxers. He covered his palm in lube and wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking himself slowly as he pressed against Zach’s entrance.

His eyes softened as he saw Zach’s fingers pressing hard into the boulder beneath them. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, cautious.

“I don’t care,” Zach ground out, and he took a deep breath as Chris pushed into him with a groan.

“Oh god, Zach,” Chris said, the pleasure so intense that corners of his mouth turned down and he had to close his eyes as he breathed rasping breaths. “Fuck, fuck, so fucking good,” he babbled as he slid out and pushed in again, and he could see how he was stretching Zach, could feel how close and tight he was around Chris’s dick and he hadn’t even gotten all the way in before he had to thrust again.

“Chris, come on,” Zach was saying, “fucking don’t stop, fill me up,” and he wrapped a leg around Chris to press him closer. Chris let Zach guide him, pushed in and in until he was buried inside Zach and his balls brushed up against Zach’s ass, then he shifted slightly and Zach shouted wordlessly and it took Chris a moment to bring himself back from the edge.

“Fuck, Zach,” Chris said, his head lowered as he held himself still, panting as he leaned across Zach’s chest. “I don’t deserve this.” Zach reached up and pulled him down into a rough kiss before letting him go, pushing him away with a hand against his chest. Then Chris was thrusting again, slamming into Zach, and gasping “touch yourself.” Zach wrapped a fist around his cock and stroked himself in time with Chris’s thrusts, losing his rhythm and his mind every time Chris drove into him just right.

“Come on, Zach,” Chris growled, “fucking come, come on, I want to see you lose it, I want to see you come all over yourself because of me.” Zach made a choking sound in the back of his throat and came hard, in thick spurts across his chest. Chris watched greedily, watched Zach’s face when he lost control, watched Zach’s cock spasming in his fist as jizz splashed across his collar bone and coated his hand. Then he shuddered and slid deep into Zach as an intense, bright pleasure rushed through him and he felt the hot slickness of his own as he came into Zach with a cry.

Zach was looking at the sky, his hands clutching his hair as he caught his breath, and he didn’t look back down at Chris until he felt him slide a finger across his chest. He looked down in time to see Chris drag a finger through the sticky mess, inhaled sharply as he drew a circle around one nipple, then the other, then slid three fingers down the center of Zach’s stomach as he grinned a mischievous, dirty grin.

Then his grin disappeared and he looked up, turned his head, said “FUCK,” and pulled roughly out of Zach and scrambled across the rock. “Zach, _there are people coming_.”

Zach had never moved as fast as he did then, scrambling into his tight jeans in record time, his boxers shoved into his messenger bag, and he yanked a t-shirt on over his head, feeling it stick to his chest. Chris shoved his sneakers on and they stood up, running their hands through their hair and slamming on their sunglasses just as a couple high school kids appeared over the edge of the rock. Chris nodded to them abruptly and pushed through them down the steep path, hoping and praying that Zach was close (but not suspiciously close) behind.

Zach caught up with him in time to press him against the trunk of a huge oak tree, catching him off guard with a hot, deep kiss. “I am so fucking filthy right now,” he whispered in Chris’s ear, and Chris tipped his head back and moaned and wondered how it was possible that he was getting hard again already. He thought of Zach’s come spread across his chest, right there, only the thin fabric of their t-shirts between them and oh yeah, that was how.

“I know you’re thinking about this,” Zach said, pressing Chris’s palm to his chest as a damp splotch appeared on his t-shirt. Chris pulled his hand away to slide it up under Zach’s t-shirt, rubbing his thumb across Zach’s stomach and pulling it out to wipe it on the sleeve of his own t-shirt with a wicked smirk.

“Mmm, classy _and_ subtle,” Zach murmured, sucking a hickey into Chris’s neck.

“So hot, Zach,” Chris said, wrapping his hands around the back of Zach’s head. “Fucking covered in your own come.”

“Not just mine,” Zach reminded him, tugging his t-shirt collar down with his teeth to lick at his chest. “It’s yours that’s sliding down my legs right now.”

“Nnnngh, fuck, Zach, you have to let me fuck you again right now,” Chris said as Zach bit down on his collar bone.

“Think we can wait to get back to my place,” Zach said, “If I can take my mouth off of you for that long.” He kissed Chris again and then wrenched himself away, turning and walking purposefully toward the path. Chris adjusted himself and followed, grinning as he watched Zach’s hand stray idly to touch his chest.

**

“Did it work?”

“Hmm?”

“Did we fuck it out?”

“Sure, why not,” Zach said sleepily.

Chris was sprawled across Zach on the bed, thoroughly fucked and exhausted. He’d told Zach he was pretty sure he had a concussion from slamming his head on the rock, and Zach had come up with several innovative ways to keep them both awake.

Now he was ready to pass out, screw the consequences, but there was something he wanted to tell Zach first.

“You know I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Come back, then,” Zach said, nuzzling at Chris’s neck.

“Why?”

“Because I need you.” Zach opened his eyes and propped himself on an elbow. “I want you here with me, Chris, I swear I won’t be able to think about anything else until you come back.”

“What about your other friends?” Chris asked, knowing it was low, but he had an ache in his chest and he wanted Zach to know how he felt.

“They’ll be a mildly interesting diversion until you get back,” Zach said, smiling and telling Chris what he wanted to hear.

“Do you think we’ll fight again?” Chris asked.

“You want to?”

Chris shrugged. “I don’t want you to act. Which one’s the real you? The mean you or the nice you?”

Zach lay his head on a pillow and looked at Chris. “They’re both me.”

“Then I’ll take whichever one I can get.” He looked at Zach, waiting. Zach looked back at him, keeping his face blank. He’d decided to let Chris wait, for a little while. Let him guess and squirm a little, maybe even fight with him again. Chris would come back whenever he asked. But he knew it wouldn’t be long until he was the one asking Chris to stay.

 **The End**


End file.
